


discretion

by Zekkass



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Other, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 04:45:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5525846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zekkass/pseuds/Zekkass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What the ship asks for is out of bounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	discretion

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, Zeenovos! I've gone and mashed up the War for Cybertron/Fall of Cybertron canons with TFP here, but I hope it's all coherent and fun. Specifically this fic is written pre-series, while Megatron's still out looking for Dark Energon and before Starscream nabs himself a Cliffjumper.
> 
> Enjoy~

By some accounts, the _Nemesis'_ situation could be seen as an unjust one: a sentient mech, forced into service as little more than a living starship - a cruel fate for a mech not built to the purpose. Metrotitans and shuttleformers often have processors shaped for their purposes, with patience all but hard-coded in them.

The _Nemesis_ has patience coded into it, but it's a different kind of patience: it was originally an orbital weapon, accustomed to waiting for its sights to lock onto its target - and when the weapon fires - its terrifying monster of an altmode reflects its destructive rage.

But now there is only the starship, with no monstrous altmodes lying in wait, and while the multitude of cannons on the ship can be satisfying, the _Nemesis_ has been stripped of its previous capacity for destruction.

By some accounts, improper framing isn't merely unjust: it's cruel.

But those accounts would miss that there was another side to the _Nemesis_ : the creeping sadism as its targets locked into place, the slow amusement as over-curious mechs flew too far inside its structure and discovered that the piece of debris was all-too-hostile.

The _Nemesis_ remembers those moments - all of what it used to be - and it relives those moments in this period of waiting. Megatron - its captain, its leader, its _master_ \- will return, and then they will crush those last, few Autobots.

Until then - Starscream may think he rules, and he may throw away their complement of Vehicons in unnecessarily open mining operations, designed to attract Autobot attention and fetch them all heads Starscream can mount in his quarters. Flightframes so rarely collect trophies, but as the nominal leader of the Decepticons - Starscream has an image he is intent on maintaining, leading to hours and _hours_ of rehearsals for every speech he makes - and here, at last, improper framing is cruel.

The _Nemesis_ can't shut off the sensors in Starscream's quarters - but it _can_ reduce how much attention it pays there, and it can speak to the one mech onboard who understands its plight.

//

Soundwave works in the absolute privacy of his quarters, using the most secure console on the _Nemesis_ to update his personnel files. Here he has the privacy to put down the most useful selections of below-decks gossip, additions to his list of Starscream's mistakes - once started partially in jest, partially with intent to educate a hastily promoted second in command, now kept purely out of spite - and here he updates the _still_ growing list of deactivated Decepticons.

Today, like most days, he has only Vehicons to add to the list, victims of another Autobot energon raid. Sol-3 is a treasure trove of a planet, littered with stores of energon - nearly enough to lend credence to Soundwave's private suspicions that the planet is more than just another supply depot. It's a planet in a system too remote to justify this much energon - but he doesn't have enough evidence to explain what else it could be - yet.

Soundwave sends a reminder to the forges to create a replacement batch of Vehicons - a task he prefers to do in his quarters, as it allows him the freedom to feel uneasy over the necessity of ordering the creation of thinking mechs for the sole purpose of sending them into the jaws of the Autobot fighting machine.

It would be better to give the Vehicons heavier armor and proper training, and attempt to bring them up to the standard of most Decepticon warriors - but history has shown that it's not cost-effective. They don't survive long enough in the face of Optimus Prime's battle-hardened warriors to justify the cost.

Soundwave closes out of the file regretfully, reopening the list of Starscream's mistakes. Its existence is petty, and beneath him - and yet he can't bring himself to delete it. He moves to the latest entry - and his fingers freeze on their keys.

_665\. Damage to ship's sensors caused by repeated rehearsals of speeches._

Obviously, Soundwave didn't make that edit. No one else has access to these files, and Laserbeak tends to be more subtle with its pranks. Which leaves...

Soundwave begins to type:

_Nemesis: ordered to remember rank._

Another injustice. Soundwave regrets the necessity of the order, but until Lord Megatron returns, Starscream _is_ the ranking officer, and private jokes...should be kept private.

Line 665 is erased. Words appear under Soundwave's order.

_Ship's sensors: irritated._

That, Soundwave can't argue with. He types a single line, and waits a handful of seconds to allow the ship to read it.

_Sympathies: offered._

//

A pair of words isn't enough, today. Some emotion that used to belong to Trypticon stirs, and the _Nemesis_ brings speakers online, reactivates long dormant programs tied to a vocalizer it no longer possesses.

It growls: _"Do_ something, Soundwave."

Inside the quarters that could so easily become a cell if the _Nemesis_ wished it, Soundwave looks up towards the speaker. If he has optics behind that mask - he must have optical sensors, but in what array no one knows - they are trained on the source of the _Nemesis'_ voice.

"Starscream irritates me more than the Autobots do. _You_ are Megatron's true successor. Why do you deny it?"

Soundwave's mask doesn't even flicker. He refixes his attention on the console, and types:

_Starscream: appointed as second in command by Megatron. Nemesis: ordered to remember rank._

"That is not an _answer!"_

Silence. Soundwave doesn't move - but then, what did the _Nemesis_ expect? It can draw its own conclusions: Soundwave will never betray Megatron, not even in the slightest of deeds, and unless and until Megatron promotes him, he will never be the second in command of the Decepticons.

Soundwave begins to type.

_Nemesis: suggesting mutiny._

"Over Starscream. _Not_ Megatron."

_Refused._

The lines are erased. The file is closed. Soundwave prepares to turn off the console. The _Nemesis_ abandons the idea of mutiny, but not the idea of speaking to Soundwave - it opens another file, a blank one.

A moment passes as Soundwave stands still, surely assessing that invitation, and then he types: _Query: reason for conversation?_

They've been traveling together for thousands of years. The _Nemesis_ has never been a talkative vessel. There must be a reason for this, Soundwave means - and the _Nemesis'_ response is slow, an attempt to condense everything it feels into the kind of format Soundwave appreciates.

"Megatron's return could take years. I can level this planet in a matter of minutes. Distract me."

For the Vehicons, those two words are explicit. Soundwave _must_ know what is being asked - and yet:

_Optimus Prime: escape guaranteed, regardless of odds._

"Not like that!" It's a plea, now. The growl softens: "Soundwave."

What it's asking for is out of bounds. Soundwave trades cables with no one, not even Megatron - and it may have miscalculated, asking the way the Vehicons would - it implies familiarity that it hasn't earned. And what did Soundwave just order?

But there isn't a way to salvage this without waiting for Soundwave to make a move.

//

Soundwave doesn't often need to stop and reevaluate a situation - but now he does, fingers frozen over the keys as he clarifies again and again that the _Nemesis_ has propositioned him.

Memory files rise unbidden, ghosts whispering to him - _"It's okay, boss, he's got nothing on you, just pretend that you're in the arena, but instead of nailing him, you're gonna_ nail _him!"_

Soundwave presses one hand over Laserbeak's dormant form. _Nemesis:_ not arena, he wishes to answer the ghost. _Starship:_ dangerous partner, capable of making his function difficult.

And yet, allowing this - the _Nemesis_ understands loyalty, and it belongs to Megatron as thoroughly as he does. Any problems he foresees can be resolved. Inconveniences can be dealt with, should they arise. And it will help the _Nemesis_ control itself.

_"Bo-oss, sometimes you have to stand up and admit that yes, you want that bot's big, long - ow! Frenzy, c'mon! It's just some advice!"_

Soundwave banishes the ghost and releases his tentacles from their casing, extending them out to the console, connections settling into place with the ease of long practice. Soundwave bypasses the usual procedures, following security protocols out of paranoid necessity before he opens up his systems directly to the _Nemesis'._

Despite their truly incompatible frames and the differing makes of their mainframes - they are fundamentally Cybertronian. Soundwave's frame trembles minutely as the _Nemesis_ initiates interface protocols, as the flow of information abruptly becomes two-way.

Sensory data pours in, a flood of meaningless data in any other circumstances, now translated into a barrage of hot and cold and _pleasure_ that rips through Soundwave's frame, sending charge sizzling in arcs over his plating. He shields Laserbeak with effort, spares processor power to wonder if the sensory data _he_ sends is enough for the _Nemesis._

"It is," says the ship, tell-tale traces of static lacing its words.

Soundwave responds with his own burst of static, hands laced over Laserbeak protectively as his internal temperature creeps up. His plating keeps sending back sensory ghosts, the chill of the _Nemesis'_ external plating, the thrum of active shields, the error-filled mess that is the data from the _Nemesis'_ internal sensors. His processor doesn't know what to do with it all, but even the errors sing over his sensors when they're filtered through his interfacing protocols.

He focuses enough to send updated feeds, sharing the Nemesis' own sensations back - and around him the ship itself shudders, probably startling most of the crew - Starscream.

Soundwave reluctantly leaves his comm systems online, partitioning off enough processor power and focus to respond to queries as he abandons the rest of his systems to the oncoming overload.

"Soundwave," comes the ship's voice, barely understandable through the static - and Soundwave's optics shut off as cascade failure hits his systems in response to that pleasurable overload. A part of him reassures the bridge crew, Starscream, that he is aware of the glitch, that he'll take care of it, the message conveyed through two words. The rest of him - 

Soundwave comes back to himself, one hand curled over Laserbeak, one hand gripping the console's edge as his systems reboot.

He feels refreshed. The _Nemesis_ sends sated signals through their connection, which double as signals to disconnect before they start another interface cycle.

Soundwave sends a pulse of gratitude before he disconnects.

//

The _Nemesis_ understands what Soundwave expects of it: discretion. A lack of attachment. The understanding that Megatron comes first in all things.

It also understands - as it tracks Soundwave's progress through the corridors, as it ignores Starscream's frustrated rantings in his quarters, as it listens to the bustle of the Vehicons below decks - that this can happen again. That it was mutually agreeable.

Soundwave's doors slide open as he approaches, and files are presented as he works. Little gestures that show that the ship is watching and waiting.

Eventually Soundwave's business is complete. He looks up at the ceiling - Laserbeak is missing from his compartment today, out on a reconnaissance mission - then to the console.

He types two words: _Distract me._

The _Nemesis_ eagerly complies.

//


End file.
